


Red, Black, Blue, and Scars

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-08 14:22:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3212372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day you turn ten is the day it changes. Your tenth birthday is the day your body starts to keep track of who you fall in love with. Each time your heart chooses a person your wrist gets a tally, a simple red tally right under the heel of your hand. Some cover them with shame; they don’t want the world to know how many mistakes they’ve made. Others wear them with pride, like a badge of honor. The marks are everywhere you see, and the first mark you get is a big deal. The few who only have one red mark are treated like royalty and those with many black or blue or scar tallies are regarded with less esteem. Every ten and eleven year old spends his or her nights dreaming of a red mark on their wrists.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red, Black, Blue, and Scars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ellebelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellebelle/gifts).



> I had just finished Blood of Olympus when I wrote the second half of this sorry bout the character names.  
> Hope you like it.

 The day you turn ten is the day it changes. Your tenth birthday is the day your body starts to keep track of who you fall in love with. Each time your heart chooses a person your wrist gets a tally, a simple red tally right under the heel of your hand. Some cover them with shame; they don’t want the world to know how many mistakes they’ve made. Others wear them with pride, like a badge of honor. The marks are everywhere you see, and the first mark you get is a big deal. The few who only have one red mark are treated like royalty and those with many black or blue or scar tallies are regarded with less esteem. Every ten and eleven year old spends his or her nights dreaming of a red mark on their wrists.

        The left wrist is for the romantic. The love that stirs butterflies in stomachs, the love that calls for breath checks and gentle flirting across tables, across streets, across cities, across continents. The left wrist is dedicated to romance and partners. Some say the left is dedicated to life. The right wrist is dedicated to family, to children, for sons and daughters. And they, the believers and followers of the right wrist, counter the romantics with the statement that children are blood and blood is the basis of life

        Harry’s mum has two little marks on the inside of her left wrist, one red a bright, one black, then she’s got two small red marks on her right wrist. She explains after Harry is tucked up in bed on his tenth birthday that the red tally marks the day she fell in love with Robin and the black mark represents the day she fell out of love with his dad. Anne goes into detail how the mark turned blue before she had stopped loving Des and she knew he had fallen out of love with her.

        Harry stares up at her with wet eyes and pulled the edge of his blanket up over his nose when she starts talking about how sad she was when the mark wouldn’t turn black. Then she sees Harry’s eyes scrunching with a smile when she began describing how her and Robin met. By the end Harry is yawning, but he still has questions.

        “Can the marks change from blue to red or from black to blue or from black to red?” He asks finally taking the blanket away from his face. Anne cocks her head and smiles at her son.

        “Maybe” She whispers and Harry purses his lips.

        “Do the marks change to any other colors?” His mother’s hand reaches out and brushes the deep brown curls from his forehead.

        “You remember when grandma showed you her marks?” Harry nods, eyebrows furrowed in a small line across his forehead. “And how next to the two black ones there were those scars?” Harry nods again and sits up a little straighter. “Well” Anne says slowly. “When a person you love, or have loved in the past dies, the tally turns into a scar.”

        Harry lets out a small and soft. “ _Oh_ ” Anne leans forward and kisses her son’s temple. “Mum?” He asks as she pulls away. “What do the tallies on your right wrist mean?” Anne beams and points to the first brilliant red mark.

        “This one is for your sister and this one,” She drags her finger across to the other. “Is for you my love” Harry smiles and lays back against the pillows. “Good night pet”

        Harry’s smile grows. “Good night mum. I love you.” Anne pulls the blanket up over his shoulders and turns off the light.

        “I love you too.”

\---

        Louis’s mum’s wrists are covered with tallies. Her right more than her left, but the left still only has glimpses of skin left near the top of her forearms. She has a few black tallies for young loves, one scar for the fiancé that died, a black tally for Troy, Louis’s father, a black tally for Mark, father of Charlotte, Felicity, Phoebe and Daisy, and a glowing red tally for Dan. Her right wrist has five red marks and one small scar at the end. Louis stares at the marks sometimes when Jay isn’t looking. He wonders if his arms will be like his mother’s or like Dan’s who only has one mark on his left or maybe like Mark’s with a few on each.

        On his tenth birthday he approaches Jay while she’s frosting his birthday cake. “Mummy?” He asks in a brash voice. She smiles but points at him with the frosting covered spatula.

        “Now Louis, you know better than to yell in the house.” He looks at her sheepishly.

        “I’m sorry” He says a touch more quietly. “I just had a question about the tallies.” She turns and lifts her son on to the counter.

        “Yes, my sweet” She says not taking her eyes away from the cake.

        “So the five red tallies on your right wrist are for me, Lottie, Fliss, Phoebe, and Daisy right?” Jay nods and licks a speck of frosting from her finger. “But what about the scar after Daisy?” Jay sighs and places the spatula in the bowl of frosting. She inches over in front of Louis and places her hands on her son’s knees.

        “Well” She begins softly. “Almost two years after Daisy and Phoebe were born I was pregnant again and a red mark appeared on my wrist.” She points to the scar, holding her wrist near her face. “Then one day, the baby in me was very quiet no kicking or hiccups or turning, just quiet. So Mark took me to the hospital and the doctor told me that at sometime during the little baby’s tumbles and turns he got his umbilical cord, the tube that gives him food from me, wrapped around his neck and he died. Then I turned to look at my wrist and the tally had changed from red to a scar.” Louis rubs at his eyes quietly.

        “I’m sorry mummy.” She smiles at the small boy and wipes the tears from his cheeks.

        “Don’t be sorry my sweet, the mark means to me that even though I never got to meet him that he was loved no matter what.” Louis smiles softly. He leans forward and puckers his lips; Jay smiles in return and pecks Louis’s lips softly before helping him from the counter.

        “Go wipe your nose and then play with you friends.” Louis nods and scampers down the hall.

\---

        Harry get’s his first tally on his left wrist when he is fourteen and he cries for an entire day locked in his room when it comes out blue.

        He had been sat at his desk; his eyes glued to Joie Hale, a small boy whose family had moved to England from Togo when he was two, when he had felt the small tingles on his wrist. He’d squeaked and the small girl next to him had gasped. “Harry” She had gasped. “You’ve got one. You’re the first in the grade to get one!” She’d hugged him tight as Harry stared at the blue mark on his wrist.

        Anne knocks softly at his door and opens it with a push of her hip. She’s got a tray with a hot bowl of soup and water on it. She’s also got a sad smile on her face as she sees her disgruntled son sat up in his rumpled bed. “Mum” He says sadly as she perches on the edge of his bed. “It’s blue. My first tally it’s blue.” Anne sets the tray on his bedside table and opens her arms.

        “It won’t stay blue my love, soon either you will move on or they will return your love.” Harry presses his face into her shoulder.

        “I don’t want it to be black, I don’t want a mark yet.” She shushes him and kisses his temple.

        “Nobody wants what is given to them, they accept it with grace and they live with the hand they are dealt.” Harry wipes his eyes with his sleeve and takes his water to sip. She pets his unruly curls back across his forehead and kisses the path she clears.  

        “Eat your food love, and come down for dessert when you are done.” Harry nods and begins to spoon the noodles into his mouth.

        In a few minutes he is sat squished between his seventeen year old sister and his mum watching sappy unrealistic movies about your tallies. They boo and his at the screen throwing unpopped popcorn kernels at the girl whose first mark is red and at the boy refuses to look at his first mark.

        Gemma recalls her first mark and almost cries again when she told the story of how it became a scar. Harry hugs her tightly fighting back his own tears and Anne comes back in with mugs of ice cream and a comedy to lighten the mood. The trio spends the next four movies howling and cackling in their small living room until Robin calls from the master bedroom complaining that he has to work tomorrow and feeds logic back into the situation.

        Gemma and Anne tuck Harry in with kisses and hugs before retiring to their own bedroom. Harry glances at the blue tally before drifting to sleep.

        The tally turns black almost a month later when Joie slaps Harry right across the face for saying the tally was because of him. Harry cries again then, but not because of the tally, because he’d never thought that someone could hate him for loving them.

        By the time Harry is sixteen, he has three more black tallies and finally one red. Anne tells him to love gently, that not everyone he sees deserves his love. Harry tries to listen but his heart loves abrasively.

\---

        Louis’s first tally doesn’t come. In school, Louis’s eyes never leave his books. He wants to make a name for himself, to be able to care for his siblings and his mum. It seems everyone else is dying for him to get a tally.

        On Fliss’s tenth birthday Daisy draws a little red tally on Lottie’s and Felicity’s arms and then she comes over to Louis. She stares up at him with wide, blue doe eyes. Her bright blonde hair is done up in a braided bun and a few loose, wispy are falling across the back of her neck and against her cheeks. “Lou?” She chirps and reaches for his right arm. “Do you want one?”

        Louis glances at his wrist and back at Daisy. He smiles softly. “Maybe on my right arm Dais.” She smiles and gently marks six little red tallies on his left wrist.

        “For us” Louis pulls her in for a big hug and kisses the top of her head.

        “Thank you” She beams and runs away offering little red tallies to all of the people at the party. Louis shakes his head fondly and turns to take Doris from his aunt.

        “Come along Poppet.” The bubbly infant takes the sopping wet fingers from her drool filled mouth and smears the saliva across Louis’s cheek. He gasps. “Naughty Dory” She gurgles at the sound of her name and excitedly flails her arms and legs. Louis notices she too has a few red lines from Daisy.

        Louis sits down in the almost empty living room, as all the younger children there for the party file out into the garden.

        Doris begins bouncing in his lap, so he slides off the couch and moves around the coffee table. He grips under her arms and gently rests some of her weight on her legs. Almost instantly she starts to bounce, Doris’s giggles ring through the room and she squeals in glee as Jay enters holding Ernest. He’s sitting happily in her arms smacking his lips together, blowing little bubbles.

        Jay smiles at Louis and sits in the armchair across from him. “Look at my baby holding my baby.”

        Louis rolls his eyes. “Jesus mummy, I’m eighteen.” She laughs.

        “Yes love, you’re the eighteen year old who still calls his mother, mummy.”

Louis pouts and bounces Dory in his lap. She whines and leans toward Jay. Jay laughs and reaches a hand out to tickle under Dory’s chin.

        “Let’s switch. Dory wants her mummy.” Louis sits Doris down on one knee and Jay places Ernie on his other knee. She lifts Dory from under her arms and stands her on her knees. Jay notices the marks on Louis’s wrist and her eyebrows furrow. “What are those marks? I didn’t know you had children.” Louis rolls his eyes.

        “Dais, is going around giving everyone marks and I asked for some to represent the little ones.” Jay smiles.

        “But why not ones on your other wrist?” Louis shrugs and leans his head gently on Ernest’s.

        “I’m not in love with anyone.” Jay hums. “I want the first mark on my right wrist to be the one.”

        “You know love,” She says cautiously. “You should be prepared that your first might not be your only.” Louis shrugs and focuses back on Ernie.

\---

        Harry feels like crying. He’s working behind the counter of his tiny coffee shop, making a small chocolate chip shake, and every time he moves his arms his sweater falls down his forearm revealing a new red mark on his left wrist. It’s the seventh tally in total all of them black and Harry doesn’t know if he could handle more heartbreak.

        Harry isn’t even sure who it’s for. He’s been at the counter all day and barely talked to anybody, let alone fell in love with any of him or her. The last costumer Harry served leaves and Harry quickly pulls out his laptop; he opens a new tab and types in the search bar, “ _Can a tally appear before you meet someone?”_

        Thousands of results pop up and Harry scrolls through most of them. The general consensus is that if the person the love represents is your soul mate. Harry quickly closes the laptop and leans his elbows on the counter. He cradles his head in his hands and some tears slip down his cheeks. He shoots up as the bell at the front of the store rings. He takes the laptop off the counter and turns to face the back of the store. Quickly wiping his cheeks, he turns around a puts a bright smile on his face.

        His smile falters as he sees the beautiful boy in front of him. The boy adjusts the strap of his bag and it knocks over a jar of mints on the lower shelf of the counter. “Oops,” He squeaks and bends down to pick them up. Harry comes around the counter and bends down to help the boy.

        “Hi” He whispers, shocking himself. He’s never shy around people, but this boy has taken the air from his lungs.

        “I’m so, so sorry. I’m such a k aqlutz.” Harry smiled softly.

        “It’s alright. Happens more often than you think.” The boy smiled, sharp teeth slipping out over his bottom lip.

        “If they keep falling why don’t you move them?” Harry shrugs and dumps the mints into the to jar. The boy does the same and then while still crouched reaches out a hand to Harry. “I’m Louis by the way.” Harry takes Louis’s hand and shakes it.

        “I’m Harry. I suppose I don’t move the jar, purely for aesthetic reasons.” Louis laughs brightly and stands. Harry stands too and moves behind the counter. He places the jar on top of the counter and pushes close to the cake tray.

        “So how can I help you today?” Louis drops his bag on the floor and sits on one of the stools at the counter.

        “I’d like a croissant and a vanilla latte please.” Harry pulls the croissant out of the display case and puts it on a small hand painted plate. He turns to the latte machine and makes Louis his latte. Harry turns with the mug in hand and held it out for Louis. Louis takes the mug and gasps as his sleeve rolled up. He quickly and carefully puts the mug down.

        “Damn it.” He whispers, pulling down his right sleeve. He runs his finger over the lone red mark. “Damn it all.” He violently rips a piece of the croissant and chews it carefully.

        Harry raises an eyebrow; he can’t help but hope that the red mark is new and could be for him. “You alright?” Louis looks up at him and smiles shakily.

        “Um. I guess. I’m not actually sure.” Harry pulls up his stool and sits across from him.

        “Care to share?” Louis stuck his pinky in the latte and carefully stirred it.

        “It’s new, the mark, I mean. It wasn’t there this morning. I’m not even sure it was there fifteen minutes ago. On top of all of that it’s my first.” Harry whistled lowly.

        “Who do you think it represents?” Louis glances up at him and then quickly looks back down at the tally.

        Louis shrugs. “I haven’t really talked to anyone today except you…” He says quietly. Harry smiles softly. He pulls his sleeve up and shows Louis the red mark.

        “It’s new too. Showed up about fifteen minutes ago.” Louis raises his eyebrow and his mouth falls open a little bit.

        “Whoa wait.” He says holding up his hands. “I thought tallies show up when you fall in love with someone. We just met. “ He stresses the word just. “And I don’t think we are in love.” Harry pulls out his laptop and turns it sideways so both of them could see.

        “I was thinking the same thing earlier and I came up with this.” Louis scrolls through the results.

        “Soul mates…” He stutters. “Jesus fucking Christ. That’s…” He breathes deeply. “That’s some heavy shit.” Harry nods.

        “So. It’s up to you really.” Louis takes another deep breath.

        “When do you close?”

\---

        Louis’s hands are shaking as he pulls on his favorite maroon sweater. He smoothes out the wrinkles in his jeans and then folds the cuffs of the sweater up, revealing the new red tally. He smiles softly and strokes over the line. He sits on the edge of his bed and toes on his black Vans. Louis steps into the bathroom, fusses with his hair and eventually just pulls on a grey beanie.

        He walks back to the coffee shop, and sees Harry locking up his shop. He smiles and stops a few steps away from the taller boy. “Hi” He says quietly.

        Harry jumps, but smiles when he turns and sees Louis. “Shit, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” Louis giggles and gently pushes his fringe from his eyes. “You ready?” Louis nods biting his bottom lip.

        Harry puts his keys away and adjusts his bag on his shoulder. Louis notes that even out of his flour caked apron you can tell the boy is a baker. He’s got specks of dried batter in his hair and smells of vanilla. There’s frosting flaking from his jeans. He taps his pigeon-toed feet and scratches at the caked flour on his cheek.

        “Um, would it be okay if we stopped by my apartment. It’s just” He tucks a curl behind his ear. “If we’re gonna go out I don’t wanna go out in this.” Louis looks Harry up and down and raises an eyebrow, stroking the tally on his wrist. He smiles brightly, eyes crinkling. Harry blushes.

        “Now why would you need to change?” Louis takes a few steps toward him and gently squeezes his hips. “I think you’re fine like this.” Harry’s cheeks blush harder.

        “Well.” Harry stutters. “If you want me to stay in these, I can cook you something.” Louis smiles.

        “Sounds wonderful” Harry checks the door is locked.

        “It’s not too far.” Louis hums. “So you know what I do for work, what do you do?” Louis rubs the back of his neck and stares stonily at the sidewalk.

        “I’m a social worker down at the Children’s Commissioner-” Harry whistles lowly. “-It’s pretty hard work. Lot’s of little kids come through the door and it’s really hard not to take them all myself.” Lou clears his throat.

        “I bet.” Harry reaches out and strokes his upper arm gently. Louis sighs and knocks his shoulder softly into Harry’s.

        “I wouldn’t trade it for any other job though. Well, maybe, I’d trade it to be a popstar, but helping kids, helping families is so rewarding, you have no idea.” Harry smiles at him and Louis takes Harry’s hand.

        “So,” He asks, shifting the conversation away from his job. “Is that your bakery or do you just work there?” Harry smiles softly.

        “It’s mine. Used to be my mum’s, but she” He clears his throat. “She can’t really run it any more and Gemma, that’s my sister, she didn’t and still doesn’t want to so mum passed it down to me.” Louis smiles.

        “You’ve done well with it. It’s fabulous.” Harry smiles. “Is it just you working there or do you have a staff?” Harry guides Louis to the left. It’s a quiet street with lights lining the business and houses. There was a dusting of snow on the ground and a group of carolers in nineteenth century garb sing softly as the walk toward the pair. Harry forgot it is Christmas time; he’s been too caught up with the marks on his wrist.

        “It’s just me. When I get big orders though a mate of mine, Zayn, helps me make mass amounts of cupcakes, or tarts, or whatever’s being ordered. I don’t pay him though, despite all his moaning and groaning. Perhaps I should.” Louis laughs, his eyes crinkling beautifully. Harry tugs him into a little alcove and pulls his keys out of his pocket. Louis leans against the wall, dropping Harry’s hand in favor of shoving them in his pocket.

        He shivers and presses his chin closer to his chest trying to keep his face warm. “Is Zayn your only friend then?” Harry blushes slightly and opens the door.

        “Well um,” He stutters. “With the business to run, I had to drop out of Uni, so Zayn actually is my only friend.” Louis reaches out and gently grabs Harry’s shoulder. The curly hair lad looks at Louis and Louis gives him a soft smile.

        “I didn’t mean it that way. I was just asking if you had any other close friends.” Harry’s mouth quirks quickly and leads Louis into the apartment. They pass the only other occupants of the building on their way up. A lovely little couple, Lindsay and Katlyn, are sitting in the hallway staring at the light above them. Ever so often the light flickers and Katlyn jumps to turn it back on Harry smiles at them.

“What’s the problem lovelies?” Lindsay turns and grins at Harry.

“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes. This stupid, stupid, light keeps going out. Can you help us?” Harry takes his scarf from his neck and wraps it around his hand. He stands on his tip toes and twists the bulb back in so it stops flickering. Katlyn smiles and pats Harry on the back.

“Good on ya mate.” She’s got a thick Welsh accent, her parents are from London, but they raised her in Cardiff. She throws her arm around Lindsay’s shoulders. Lindsay was born in Beijing; her mother died in a car accident while she was riding her bicycle, and after that her father moved them to London. She was short, about 1.5 meters and Katlyn was a bit taller about 1.7 meters, so Katlyn could lean down on her. She hums. “Well, now seems a good of a time as any.”

Katlyn moves her arm from Lindsay’s shoulders and gets down on one knee. Lindsay covers her eyes. “No no no, you are not doing this now. We just had our neighbor fix our hall light. You are not proposing now.” Katlyn laughs.

“Well” She protests. “Everyone who is important is here, plus this rather lucky gentleman

with our Hazza.” Louis smiles shyly. “So Lindsay Fae, love of my life, soon to be mother of our children, will you please marry me?” Harry squeals. He covers his mouth.

        “Sorry, sorry continue.” He smiles widely at Louis and then back at the couple. Katlyn rolls her eyes and swats at Harry’s knees. She pulls a small ring out, it has three small white pearls across the silver band. Lindsay laughs.

        “You absolute arse, I picked that ring out last time we went shopping.” Katlyn smiles. “That must be cheating.” Harry groans.

        “Jesus, it doesn’t matter. Is there going to be a wedding or not?” Lindsay nods.

        “Yes of course, I’ll marry you.” Harry tries to launch himself at the couple, but Louis holds him back, rolling his eyes fondly. Lindsay pulls Katlyn up and kisses her. Louis starts to drag Harry toward the staircase.

        “Leave them be weirdo.” Harry pouts but leads Louis up the stairs. He opens the third apartment on the fourth floor. He steps inside the threshold and Louis follows, looking around at the neatly decorated entryway. There are a few pictures of Harry in front of famous buildings, the Empire State Building, the Eiffel Tower, the Dubai Tower, and some of a small family, obviously a few years old.

        Harry toes off his Keds under a small table pressed against the wall, and puts his keys in the little, white porcelain dish. The dish has octopus tentacles coming out from it and Louis rolls his eye internally at the silly dish. The walls are a light pink with a white chair rail. The smaller boy follows the taller’s example and toes off his Vans. Harry hangs his heavy coat on a small white bird that functions as a hook; he then turns to Louis and smiles.

        He takes Louis’s hand and brings him into the kitchen. The walls are a pale yellow and all the appliances and cabinets are black. Louis cocks an eyebrow. “Your kitchen looks like a bumblebee.” Harry barks with laughter and he claps a hand over his mouth.

        “Thank you” He says sincerely. “What do you want for dinner?” Louis hums and opens some cabinets.

“Not sure,” He shrugs. “I don’t really think about what I eat.” Harry gasps, clutching his hand over his heart. He stumbles backward and braces himself on the granite counter. Louis does roll his eyes this time.

“Why” Harry stammers. “Why, why, would you think it’d be a good idea to say that to a baker, a cook of all people?” There’s a sharp hurt tone to his voice, but he’s smiling bright so Louis isn’t too worried.

“Well that’s just it, isn’t it? I don’t have the skill set to make myself meals for myself so it’s mostly take out.” Harry tutts gently, and opens a drawer. He pulls out a thin book and flips through the pages.

“Are you allergic to anything?” Louis raises his eyebrow again.

“Pollen and laundry detergent” Harry giggles.

“No detergent soup, sprinkled with pollen then.” Louis rolls his eyes fondly, for what feels like the hundredth time that night. “Is baked macaroni and cheese alright?” Louis’s mouth practically waters.

“Perfect actually” Harry beams and moves around the kitchen like a well oiled machine. He opens the fridge and ponders the pros and cons of the different cheeses. Louis peaks in over Harry’s shoulder and blanches at the immense amounts of food. “Christ…” He says in awe. “It’s all so fancy.” Harry blushes.

“I don’t plan on being a baker forever. I hope to turn it into a proper restaurant, well that’s perhaps a bit ambitious, maybe start with a café.” Louis whistles lowly.

“That’s impressive. Next time you’ll have to make something fancy.” Harry smiles shyly at the promise of next time and nods softly.

“Yeah” He stutters. “Yeah I will.”

\---

Louis’s sitting on Harry’s couch, tentatively sipping at his glass of red wine. Harry is in the kitchen, washing the dishes. The clinking of the dishes become white noise in Louis’s ears. He is nervous. This is his first date, hopefully Harry has no idea he’s never been out before. He knows how dates end sometimes. And he’s ready for a relationship, for sex especially. However, his willingness for sex doesn’t mean he isn’t nervous. Louis jumps as Harry comes back into the room. The wine in his glass almost sloshes out over the rim.

Harry cocks an eyebrow. “Jumpy one, huh?” Louis smiles nervously.

“Guess you could say that”

        Harry laughs, then sits next to Louis. He bumps his shoulder into the smaller boy’s. “Now seriously, what’s the matter?”

        Louis shrugs and sips his wine again. “Nothing really, you just startled me when you came in.” Harry waggles his eyebrows and Louis blushes furiously; he quickly places his wine glass on the coffee table and smacks Harry repeatedly with a pillow. “Gross, naughty, disgusting child!”

        “It’d be illegal if I was a child Lou, I’d choose my words more carefully.” Louis sighs and collapses back on the couch.

        “You insist on being difficult, don’t you?” Harry crawls over the smaller boy and leans his forearm on the armrest above Louis’s head. Louis swallows heavily. “You’re so lovely.” Harry smiles softly.

        “Oh yeah, I’m the lovely one.” Harry runs his free hand down Louis’s side and Louis squirms. Harry stills. “Are you alright?” Louis nods, his eyes closed. “You don’t seem alright.” Louis runs his hands over his face.

        “I am. I really am. Just a bit nervous.” Harry sits back on his heels and pulls Louis up to face him. He strokes the trembling boy’s face and gently peppers kisses across Louis’s cheeks.

        “Why are you nervous? It’s just me. The same person you’ve been with all day.” Louis shakes his head, sighing.

        “I know, it’s just stupid.” Harry cups Louis’s chin, and nods for him to go on. “This is my first and probably only tally mark. So this, ergo, is my first date, ergo, my first everything.” Harry’s eyebrows jump in shock. Louis blushes heavily.

        “Well that puts a bit of pressure on me.” Louis cocks an eyebrow.

        “On you?” He squeaks.

        “Yes, means I have to make all this perfect.” Louis’s fading blush quickly returns. Harry leans forward and presses his lips gently to Louis’s. Louis sighs softly. The kiss lasts about five seconds and it isn’t enough Louis. Harry pulls away smiling and Louis brings his hand to cup the back of Harry’s head and brings him back in for a more purposeful kiss. Harry’s tongue gently prods at Louis’s lips until the smaller boy tilts his head and parts his lips.

        Their tongues dance together and Louis leans back and pulls Harry on top of him. Louis’s hands rest on Harry’s shoulders and Harry brings his hands to his hips. They kiss lazily for what feels like hours. Eventually, Harry pulls back and sits properly on the couch. Louis crawls over and straddles his lap. Harry holds the boy’s hips and eyes him.

        As they kiss, Harry tugs Louis's shirt over his head and the kiss breaks. They stand together and Harry grabs Louis's wrist gently. Louis breathes heavily and lets himself be lead into Harry's room. 

\---

        Louis starts gently, unfamiliar with the room around him. He remembers where he is and smiles, burying his face into his the pillow. He reaches over the edge of the bed and grabs the nearest pair boxers. He doesn’t think they are his, but he puts them on anyway. He stands and gingerly walks into the kitchen. There’s a note on the counter.

         _Louis,_

         _I put my number in your phone. I had to open the bakery. I’m sorry I left without telling you_

         _but I want to do this again sometime. Text me._

         _Hazza xx_

Louis smiles and makes himself a bowl of cereal.

\---

        Four months later, Louis’s sitting at his desk. He rubs his eyes and then continues typing on his laptop. One of the interns, Mary, carrying stacks and stacks of papers, comes running to Louis’s desk. Louis cocks an eyebrow.

        “Mary?” She pants, resting on Louis’s desk.

        “Mr. Tomlinson, there are two children in the lobby. The only home available to take them is that wretched group home on seventh. Please, Mr. Tomlinson don’t let them go there.” Louis sighs.

        “Bring them to me. I’ll see what I can do.” Mary runs back to the lobby; her dark hair flowing behind her. Louis clears his desk and pulls up two spinning chairs. He clears his desk and pulls up the lists of temporary homes. Mary comes back, walking up the aisle. She’s holding an infant and there’s a four-year-old running in front of her. She stops and Louis helps the smaller girl into the chair. He takes the infant from Mary and looks at her helplessly.

        “They’re so young.” Mary nods.

        “Left at a hospital. This is Bianca.” She pats the top of four year olds head. “And he’s Nico. They’re siblings.” Louis nods.

        “Alright, alright. What time is it?” Mary glances at her watch.

        “Half past five.” Louis cusses internally. The office closes in fifteen minutes.

        “Alright, they’re coming home with me tonight. I’ll find them a place tomorrow.” Mary’s eyes widen. She nods.

        He gently coddles the squirming infant and smiles at the little girl. “Do you fancy a slumber party?”

\---

        Harry knocks at Louis’s door and takes a patient step back. There’s some clatter behind the door and Harry cocks an eyebrow. The door opens, but instead of Louis it’s a small black haired girl with wide obsidian eyes. He startles and crouches down. “Where’s Louis, dearie?” She raises her eyebrow and puts the hand that was on the doorframe on her hip.

        “Who are you?”

        “I’m Harry.” She hums.

        “Well, Harry, you’re boring me.” Her voice is light as she speaks and she turns and closes the door. Harry stands and knocks again. This time Louis opens the door. His eyes widen at the infant resting it’s head on Louis’s shoulder.

        “Lou?” Louis opens the door.

        “Shit Hazza, come in I’m sorry about Bianca. She needs to learn some manners and soon.” Harry is stunned. “Why are you here?”

        Harry pulls out a bottle of wine he was holding in his coat. “We had a date.” His eyebrows furrow. Louis’s face falls. “Who are they?” Louis sits on the couch and starts to feed the baby.

        “They came into the office today and they were going to be sent to that awful group home i told you about. My intern, Mary, came to me and asked me to do something and I said yes. By the time she brought them to me it was too late to find a new home for them tonight so I just panicked. I brought them here and decided to find them a home tomorrow.” Harry’s eyes are watering by the end of Louis’s tale.

        “So you’re telling me,” He starts calmly. “That the whole time you’re doing this, bringing children to your home, possibly losing your job, you didn’t think about me once. You never considered what this could do to you? To us?” Louis lets his gaze fall. 

“Jesus Christ” Harry says standing. “I’m in love with a lunatic.” Louis stands as well, ready to plead with Harry to stay.

        “Please Harry. They’re just so little and that house would kill them.” 

Harry shakes his head, tears freely spilling over his cheeks, “I can’t have this conversation right now.” Harry starts toward the door but Louis grabs his wrist before he can leave.

        “Hazza please, I love you.” Harry shakes his head.

        “If you love me, why wasn’t I one of the things you thought to consider when taking children into your home?” Harry rips his wrist from Louis’s grasp and storms out. Tears spill over Louis’s cheeks. Nico cries and Louis soothes him with a bottle.

        “Come little one,” He sniffs. “Let’s put you and your sister to bed.”

\---

        Harry stays in bed for the next three days. He feels left behind like Louis is moving forward without him, planning a future that doesn’t include him. He’s been checking his wrist almost every hour to see if the color has changed. It hasn’t. It’s still bright red. On the third, day he gives in.

        The phone rings and soon Louis answers. “Hazza… Love please listen to me. I love you so much.”

Harry sobs. “The reason I work for the Children’s Commissioner is because I love children and I want to help them anyway I can. I’m sorry that I acted before asking you, but my heart was so heavy when I saw them.” And then Louis sobs.

        “Louis, I understand, I was just being foolish. I was being ridiculous actually. I just want to know why my tally is still red.” Louis laughs through his tears.

        “Because I still love you, you absolute idiot.” Harry laughs. “Can I see you? Be warned Bianca and Nico are still here. There haven’t been any openings in any of the homes.” Harry smiles to himself.

        “I’ll be over in a bit. I’ve got to shower.”

\---

        Harry knocks at Louis’s door and Louis flings it open. He immediately jumps into Harry’s arms. Harry hugs him and buries his face in the crook of Louis’s neck. Louis buries his fingers in the taller boy’s hair. A small voice behind them clears their throat. Bianca stands in the door way in almost the exact same position Harry saw her last time, her hand on her hip, eyebrows cocked. Harry lets Louis down and the smaller boy clears his throat. 

        “Bianca, you remember Harry?” Harry waves. Bianca smirks.

        “He’s just as boring as I remember.”

        “Bianca!” Louis scolds.  Harry just laughs. The pair follows the little one into the apartment and Louis locks the door behind them. “Do you need anything B?” She shrugs.

        “Nico is crying.” Louis nods and gestures for Harry to sit on the couch and then rushes into what Harry recalls as a guest room that Louis must have converted into a bedroom for the two children. He comes back some minutes later with a bubbly baby in arms. Harry smiles.

        “Harry love, this is Nico. The actual happiest baby I’ve ever met.” Louis takes his place next to Harry on the couch and the other boy plays with Nico. The infant squirms in Louis’s grasp. “What’s wrong poppet? Do you want to go see Harry?” Louis interprets the infants continuous squirming as a yes and hands the baby off to a terrified looking Harry. Louis laughs gently.

“Stop it Lou! I've never held a baby before. I’m the youngest in my family and all the cousins I’ve met are older than me.” Louis shakes his head, smiling fondly and helps Harry adjust the baby until he’s staring up at the curly haired lad and sucking on the drawstring of Harry’s sweatshirt. Louis strokes the soft skin of Nico’s cheek.

        “He’s so little.” Louis giggles.

        “Most babies are.” Harry smiles and bounces the baby gently. Louis stares up at Harry filled with love for the boy. “Harry, can I talk to you about something?” Harry nods, but doesn’t take his eyes off Nico. “Harry, this is serious, look at me for a minute.” Harry looks up, his eyebrows furrowed.

        “What’s wrong love?”

        “Nothing’s wrong. Thinking about it now, looking at you with Nico in your arms and watching the way Bianca smirks at you, she does that when she likes people.” Harry grins. “I’m so happy with you and with them and I want to take those things and combine them.”

        “You want me to take Nico and Bianca?” Louis rubs his hands over his face.

        “No lovely, I want you to know I’m adopting them. I don’t want them to be separated or mistreated at the homes.” Harry’s jaw goes slack, lips parting slightly.

        “Wow Louis, that’s so good of you.” Louis blushes.

        “But it’s more than that Hazza.” He puts his hands on the upper parts of Harry’s arms. “I want you to move in with me, I want you to help me raise Bianca and Nico. I want a family and I want you to be part of it.” Harry’s eyes water. He looks down at the infant in his arms. Nico smiles up at him around his fingers. Harry laughs wetly.

        “Yeah, Lou, I’ll move in with you I’ll be your family.”

        Louis kisses him.

\---

        By the next month, Louis and Harry are living together and they are the official adoptive parents of Bianca and Nico. A few days after Harry moved in with Louis two little red tally marks appear on their right wrists. Nico starts to pull himself up and Harry has been frantically baby proofing the house. Louis gets Bianca to calm down and come out of her shell. They’re all happy.

        Louis comes home from work and kisses Harry softly. Nico bounces in his high chair and throws a few Cheerios from his tray at them. Louis smiles at the baby and Nico smiles back.

        “Hello my big boy, why are you throwing Cheerios?” Nico points at Louis. He’d been doing that more and more often and Louis swears every night as they go to bed that it’s cause he recognizes him.

        “Da!” Nico squeals. Louis and Harry freeze.

        “Did he just?” Harry starts, pointing at Nico. Nico points back.

        “Da.” Nico nods to himself. Louis gasps.

        “Oh my god, he’s saying dad.” Louis rushes over and lifts Nico out of the highchair. “That’s right buddy, we are you dads.” Nico’s eyes widen as the men rush around him. Louis lifts him up and they both kiss him on his cheeks. Nico giggles and kicks his legs.

        “Da.” Harry’s practically crying and Louis looks manic with his monstrous grin. Bianca comes into the room flipping through the picture book Harry had gotten her last week. She raises her eyebrow at the men coddling the infant.

        “What happened?” She asks, annoyed that her little brother is getting more attention than her. Harry comes over and lifts Bianca into his arms. She drops the book in surprise.

        “Nico said his first word.” He carries her over to Louis and Nico. Bianca leans slightly away from Harry to give Nico and Louis a peck on the cheeks.  Nico laughs again and reaches for Bianca.

        “Ca!” He adds reinforcing his need for his sister. Bianca startles backward into Harry’s grasp again.

        “He knows my name?” She asks hurriedly. “He said my name?” Louis is happily lifting Nico over his head. He’s practically glowing.

        “My little genius.” Harry smiles and kisses Bianca’s temple.

        “Actually when Dada came home Nico said da and then said it again when pointing at me. You’re little brother said two words today and he’s remembering us.” Bianca smiles and pulls them all into a big hug.


End file.
